


Gifts in Exchange

by VictoriaWitch



Series: Ushijima Brain Rot [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Camgirl, Camgirl!reader, F/M, Female Solo, Male Solo, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Vaginal Fingering, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaWitch/pseuds/VictoriaWitch
Summary: Ushijima is obsessed with a camgirl, despite his lack of interest in online sex. But, he can't stop himself from watching your streams or buying you gifts off your wishlist.Ushijima is just a pro volleyball player to you, your favorite one, in fact. You have no idea he's the man behind the screen that adores you.Until you do, at least.
Relationships: Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Series: Ushijima Brain Rot [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020700
Comments: 6
Kudos: 148





	Gifts in Exchange

He recognizes you immediately, how could he not? You had become part of his routine at this point, always eagerly waiting for the notification to come across his screen that you had gone live. Admittedly, Ushijima did not see the appeal in Cam Girls, the idea of paying someone you didn’t know to see them naked unappealing to him. Until Tendo pulled up your account one day. Immediately, you had Ushijima’s attention. Your personality was addictive and you were devine to look at. Tendo had brought up your live stream that happened to be going on while showing Ushijima your profile, settling on letting him watch some to ‘get an idea of what he’s missing out on.’ Friendly, personable, alluring, and Ushijima knew he was hooked. 

He was a regular to your streams and posts, always interacting with simple compliments and comforting praise of your content. He was not blind to the fact you are human and deserved respect, the fact you made money from selling pictures and videos of you masturbating or posing nude did not mean you were a simple piece of meat. Ushijima expected nothing from you, more than content with whatever you were willing to provide. He would never demand more content, you owed him nothing. Of course, you always provided him with extra. 

You had no idea who he was other than his screen name, never posting a picture of himself or doing anything to give away his identity. “MiracleBoyUW” was a favorite fan of yours, sending gifts practically weekly. More often than not, it was more than one thing at a time, too. You would always send him a thank you message, offering to send him anything he’d like in return. You’d humor any request his gave, so long it was within your limits. He always denied, stating he did not need you to do such a thing. He was more than happy to send you the gifts and knowing you would get enjoyment from them was enough for him. Naturally, you’d send him pictures of videos of you with whatever he purchased, at least allowing him to see you use it or wear it before anyone else did. 

One thing he never expected to happen, though, was this. To see you no more than ten feet away, bounding down the steps of the gym to come sprinting across the wooden floor. As if seeing you in person is not enough to make his heart seize, seeing you with his jersey on certainly is. But you don’t approach Ushijima, you run straight for a member of the opposing team. Your arms wrap around Bokuto’s middle just as his envelope your shoulders. Both of your faces are alight with excitement and pure joy, though Bokuto’s expression falters to a scowl when he catches you in the white, blue, and gold shirt. 

“Aw, c’mon! I thought you were here to cheer  _ me _ on!” Bokuto whines, narrowed gaze focused on the “11” pasted on the front of your shirt.

You giggle, playfully smacking his arm, “I was here to cheer for you, but it’s an Adlers game, too!” The smile you wear is almost prideful as you tug at the white fabric, “you know there’s no way I’m not going to rep them!” 

“I’m with Bokuto,” Atsumu slings an arm around the Spiker, staring you down with a teasing smirk, “Miracle Boy has enough supporters. ‘S a crime to see you on the side of the losin’ team.” The nickname he refers to Ushijima as makes your heart skip a beat, immediately thinking of the wonderful admirer you had gained through your online work. But you breeze over it, preferring not to dig into that portion of your life while not working. It’s easier to keep the Cam Girl world divided from everyday life. 

“Not much of a losing team if they have me on their side,” you cheekily retort, deciding not to dwell over the sneaking suspicion nagging at the back of your brain. Atsumu and Bokuto snicker their acceptance of your snarky claim, neither willing to deny your unabashed claim of beauty. 

“Give me a few minutes to clean up and I’ll be back!” Bokuto sprints off towards the locker room, Atsumu not far behind the other Black Jackal. You knew the two of them would want to spend extra time with you after the game, eager to catch up. Normally, you would meet with the pair once a week to talk. You had known the owl-eyed male since high school and met Atsumu when Bokuto became part of the professional team. Hinata was another player you frequently spoke with, the two of you feeding off the others playful energy and creating animated conversations that encouraged some of the more reserved players to join in. 

You wander out into the main hall of the stadium, all of the vendor stations packed up and concessions closed. You do not mind the silence of it all, opting to stroll around in effort to pass time. Without a bustling crowd and merchandise cluttering the path, it is easy to get absorbed by how large and spacious everything truly is. Your mindless ogling comes to a halt when you run into something solid, the impact forcing you to stumble back. 

Ushijima turns around, phone in hand, and looks down at you. Instinctively, your body freezes, face burns with embarrassment, and your thighs squeeze together. He is so much bigger up close, and far more attractive than you originally noticed. His eyes especially grab your attention, beautiful olive with flecks of melted gold. “I- I’m so sorry! I should have been paying attention.” He says nothing in return, taking a moment to drink in your appearance from up close. You’re just as beautiful in person as you are on camera, maybe more so now that you’re right in front of him.

His focus shifts to the jersey you wear, “would you like me to sign it?” The vibrato of his voice alone nearly makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, completely taken by the deep bass. 

Snapping back to reality, orbs widening as you fumble to answer, “really? You, um, you wouldn’t mind?”

“I would not offer to if I did.” Nodding, you spin around to present the back of the shirt to him. Ushijima takes a moment to read over his name printed across your shoulder blades, fighting back a triumphant smirk. Of all the players you could choose to support, you picked him. A shiver trails up your spine when his large hand splays across the small of your back, using the leverage to keep the fabric still as he signs his name. Blood rushes to your cheeks once more, unable to ignore the heat radiating from his body or the way you can just barely feel his breath graze the back of your neck. It was easy to tell just how large Ushijima is, but having him so close, experiencing his size first-hand, you can feel your walls flutter in response. 

Scarlet shades your face as Bokuto and Atsumu round the corner, Bokuto’s golden orbs nearly bugging from his skull. Atsumu just smirks, wiggling his brows at you teasingly. “Thank you!” Squeaks out of your throat the moment Ushijima’s marker clicks shut. 

“You are welcome,” he watches as the two opposing teammates grin before Atsumu is calling for you to hurry up. You thank Ushijima one more time, turning your head just enough for him to catch the blush adorning your cheeks before darting off to greet the two men waiting for you. 

**~*~*~*~*~**

He had just sat down by the time the notification came across his screen, water droplets still dripping down his neck and chest from his hair. Ushijima is hesitant, almost convincing himself to ignore the request as his eyes rove over the message multiple times. You had requested a private video chat with him, if he was interested. Naturally, he is more than interested in your offer, but the idea of giving away his anonymity keeps his finger hovering above the call button. With a soft sigh, he gives in to his needier desires, accepting the offer and joining a private chat with you. 

Both screens are dark, but your voice filters out first. “MiracleBoy, I got the gift you sent.” He grunts, not willing to give himself up so easily. Of course, that was your goal. You want him to speak, confirm if your assumption of who sits on the opposite side of the screen is correct, but he won’t budge easily. “I got you something in return, if you’d like to see it.” 

He bites his tongue, carefully weighing the decision in his mind. He remembers vividly how you reacted to him earlier, blushing and the slightest bit bashful. How you shivered under his touch. “I would.” 

A smile breaks across your face,  _ it is him _ ! You switch on your camera, giving Ushijima a full view of yourself. Legs spread over the arm rests of your chair, ass dangling just off the edge. His jersey and a pair of white, lace panties. The panties being the most recent item from your wishlist he was kind enough to purchase. You pull the fabric to the side, exposing a small, golden bullet vibrator attached to your clit. Juices seep from you, spilling down your asscheeks where he finds a navy blue plug in between the two mounds. Ushijima groans at the sight, your prominent arousal mixed with the clear display of his team colors,  _ his colors _ , embroidered upon your beautiful skin quickly matching his dick twitch with excitement. “I thought I should properly thank you for the autograph.” 

Ushijima watches in silence as you turn the bullet back on, the vibrations from the tiny machine strong enough for him to hear through his laptop speakers. Your hips ground down at the sensation, a moan tearing from your throat. Your clit is already so sensitive, having edged yourself three times before misting the courage to send him a message to video chat. He watches as your pretty little pussy contracts around nothing, eager to be stuffed full. With haste, you cram two fingers into your awaiting hole, chin dropping to your chest from the pressure building in your core. “I wish my fingers were your cock,” you admit, too drunk off your own bliss to register the omission. The sound of his breathing picking up, soft pants, and rumbling groans make you shudder, “turn on your camera. Please, Ushijima. I want to see you.” His picture floods your screen no more than a few seconds later, face flushed, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. The visual of him fucked out, the sounds of his pleasure mixed with the way you can hear him sloppily, aggressively stroking himself only makes the heat in your body turn to a scorch that is felt in every muscle fiber. “Oh, fuck,” you curse to yourself, enthralled with how he looks so euphoric just from watching you fuck yourself. 

Your fingers find that spot inside that makes your toes curl and back straighten, mouth falling open to release a long whine. “Ushijima! Please, please. Oh, fuck. Please, I want to see your cock!” 

Your desperate pleading makes him groan, adjusting his laptop to allow you to watch as he jerks himself off. His size is immaculate, encouraging you to wiggle another finger inside your pulsing cunt. Three of your fingers is no match to the girth he holds, but you are too worked up to even consider dragging this out to make yourself fit a fourth. 

Eagle eyes catch the way your thighs begin to tremble, the way you whimper and mewl as you ram your fingers into your tight heat as fast as you can. He wants it to be him filling you, he would stretch you so much better than those tiny fingers. But he is more eager to watch you cum for him, hear his name fall from you as you tumble over the edge. “Cum for me, (Name). I want to see you make a mess of yourself.”

It takes no more than a few more pumps of your digits before your walls clamp down, your legs spasming as muscles convulse from the intensity. His name taste sweet on your tongue, like a reward for something you are not quite sure of, but too happy about to refuse. You barely come down from your high when Ushijima finishes with a booming moan, covering his toned stomach in his emission. The sight is enough to pull another soft croon from you, desperately wishing you were there to lick the mess off him. As if reading your mind, Ushijima lets out a soft chuckle, “we may have to try this in person next time.” 


End file.
